Love Takes Over is the tagline for the directorial début of Anand Bakshi's grandson Aaditya (numerologically achieving iTrans-friendliness there, minus the capitalisation) Dutt, Aashiq Banaya Aapne. The only notable element in the film is the inclusion of the title in hindi and urdu as well in the opening credits -- a standard thing in the past, but something that has vanished from crop of films over the last few years, which have relied of packaging sub-standard clichéd Hindi dialogue-fests in English wrapping paper.
Those professional yet boring credits are also the only effective thing in the film. What follows is a love triangle that has already been done to death with a twist that has already been done to death. For his cast, AD chooses three of the finest pieces of termite-resistant wood on the market: Sonu Sood, the plywood pillar in the Neha Dhupia dupe-fest Sheesha and Emraan #me, Mahesh Bhatt's nephew, who would've had a great career as a porn star but has chosen instead to besmirch the filmscape with his slap-friendly visage are the male vertices of the triangle. Brokeback Mountain jokes aside (and there are some in the film!), the female vertex is played by Miss India 2004, Tanushree Dutta. This was supposed to TD's début film, but that honour[sic] went to Chocolate, the most surreal rip-off of 2005. While SS tries to get some acting chops seasoned with attempts at doing what Sanjay Dutt did in Saajan (hint: amorous sleepwalking), #me indulges in his patent-pending I'm-so-cool bad boy kitty, TD sports her wares with abandon -- no attempts are made in the acting department; this is all about flesh and titillation.
With #me and TD one expects #me to do the kissing (just like people expected Salman Khan to go topless in his movies) and TD to be at the receiving end of the liplock (besides sporting her wares, but we've already covered -- no pun intended -- that). The title song is dedicated to this big moment in the film as #me and TD grope, and sniff, and kiss; there's #me sniffing and feeling TD while lip-synching to the words; then you have a backless TD shot. All in all, eye candy in the family-friendly porn department. If ogling is all you came here for (don't tell me you came in for the wonderful story and acting), this is the only thing you need worry about. Make no mistake: despite the presence of the hog called #me, this film is devoted solely to the assets of TD.
Weird scene: At one point TD's giving #me a ride home. They stop; TD says "meraa ghar aa gayaa"; #me gets off and goes into his house. Was the screenwriter/continuity manager/director sleeping?
On the ribaldry front, we have a scene of scatalogical humour, double entendres involving Mona Lisa's assets, retorts that TD take her top off (helpful hint: she doesn't); and a situational cheapie involving a guy scratching his crotch.
Musically, just about every song's been reported/rumoured to be a rip-off. And yet the disgustingly specious and irritating style[sic] of Himesh Reshammiya's catchy mainstream musical flair[sic] is evident in every pore of the score. This guy's nasal RDB-wannabe intonation puts Kumar Sanu to shame.
There's a Bhatt angle to AD's sorry flick -- which would explain all the familiar vibes of boredom, couch cramps and ennui-driven aggression that you feel as you watch three forms of life infest the screen and your senses. AD's been an assistant to Bhatt protégé Tanuja Chandra.
AD must've been really proud of what he had wrought -- there's graffiti on the wall in the basketball scenes that reads "ADI RULES." Truly.
The only person who manages to stay sober and deliver the goods in this sorry flick is veteran Navin Nischol. His calm and patience are admirable and a big fat sore thumb in yet another paean to mainsteam moronity (underscored only by Reshammiya winning the Filmfare award for Best Playback Singer for his nasal impassioned rendering of the title song).
awesome subtitle award winner:tuu merii hasarato.n kaa jahaa.N gets translated as you are the fountainhead of my desires
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